


No.30 Wound Reveal

by LiGi



Series: Whumptober 2020 [30]
Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Caring Lancelot (Merlin), Gwaine Being Gwaine (Merlin), Healing herbs, Hiding an injury, Hurt Arthur Pendragon (Merlin), Hurt Gwaine (Merlin), Ignoring an Injury, Whumptober 2020, no 30, physician Merlin, wound reveal
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-13
Updated: 2020-12-13
Packaged: 2021-03-11 02:14:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,572
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28037514
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LiGi/pseuds/LiGi
Summary: Whumptober 2020 no 30 - Wound Reveal/Ignoring an InjuryGwaine is hurt but he doesn't want to be subjected to a stinky poultice if he tells Merlin!
Relationships: Gwaine & Arthur Pendragon (Merlin), Gwaine & Lancelot (Merlin), Gwaine & Merlin (Merlin), Lancelot & Arthur Pendragon (Merlin), Lancelot & Merlin (Merlin), Merlin & Arthur Pendragon (Merlin)
Series: Whumptober 2020 [30]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2053113
Comments: 6
Kudos: 49





	No.30 Wound Reveal

**No. 30 – Wound Reveal / Ignoring an injury**

Gwaine knew he had a large gash on his right thigh, just above his knee. The slow dribble of hotness down his shin was proof enough, even if the pain wasn’t. Gwaine looked down at his leg, considering whether he could get away with it or not.

If Merlin found out, he’d be subjected to some kind of horrible smelly, sticky poultice. But if he could just last until they got back to Camelot, he could hide in his chambers and clean it out with nice fresh water by himself.

The bandit’s blade that cut him had obviously been nice and sharp. The slice through his breeches was thin and not frayed at all, you wouldn’t even notice it if you weren’t looking closely. As long as he kept to the right side and slightly behind Merlin, he should be fine. He could ignore the pain.

“Keep up, Gwaine,” Lancelot called, looking over his shoulder with a smile.

“Yup, coming.” Gwaine trotted forwards to catch up with the other three, his jaw rigid to stop himself flinching as pain shot up his leg.

He tried to think of something else to take his mind off the pain. He’d much rather be at the tavern right now. Not trudging back to Camelot, without their horses who’d spooked when the bandits jumped from the trees and attacked them.

“I’m thirsty,” he complained after a while.

“You’re always thirsty,” Arthur muttered.

“We got any ale? Merlin, you got any ale?”

Merlin turned and grinned at him. “Yes, of course, here.” He pulled his waterskin from the loop on his belt and chucked it to Gwaine.

“Really?” Gwaine unstoppered the waterskin and tipped it to his lips. It was, of course, just water. He frowned. “Oh yes, very funny.” He lobbed the waterskin back, without bothering to put the stopper in. It sprayed a shower of water over Merlin and Arthur as Merlin caught it.

“Here.” Lancelot tossed him an apple. It might not be ale but it was a fairly good second choice. He could always count on Lancelot.

He crunched it as they walked on. Merlin and Lancelot started talking, Merlin pointing at the plants growing under the trees. Trust those two to be discussing wildflowers. Gwaine rolled his eyes. Which he regretted when he missed the root sticking up from the ground in front of him and nearly tripped over it. Pain exploded in his leg again, burning and aching. He gasped. Luckily no one seemed to have noticed.

Arthur had dropped slightly back from Merlin and Lancelot now, his head down as he trudged silently along. Gwaine was about to throw his apple core at him, just to see if his reflexes were quick enough to catch it, when Arthur winced and wrapped a hand around his arm, squeezing it and clenching his teeth. He held it for a minute or so then pulled his hand away. Gwaine noticed blood on his palm. Arthur frowned and balled his hand into a fist, glancing guiltily over at Merlin then continuing on like he’d never done anything.

He was clearly trying to hide his injury from Merlin too. Probably for the same reason as Gwaine, Gwaine knew Arthur hated the poultices. Well, he wasn’t going to rat him out. Even if it would be funny to watch him squirm. A bit hypocritical though.

Instead he threw his apple core into the trees. The rustle and thud of it falling to the floor through a plant made Merlin jump. Lancelot’s hand fell to the hilt of his sword. Realising what the noise had been they both turned to look at Gwaine. He gave them one of his blinding grins. Merlin rolled his eyes, turned and carried on walking. Lancelot glanced at Arthur.

“Arthur?” he said suddenly. Arthur let go of his arm guiltily. “Are you hurt?”

Merlin whipped around and fixed Arthur with his steely physician’s scowl. Gwaine was sure Gaius must have given him lessons on that look. The resemblance to the old physician was uncanny. Except Merlin’s eyebrow didn’t arch quite so impressively.

“It’s nothing,” Arthur said forcefully. “Just a scratch.”

He made the mistake of waving his hand casually. The hand with the blood on the palm. Gwaine snorted.

Merlin marched over and rolled up the chainmail sleeve. Arthur pushed him away. Merlin, being Merlin, tripped backwards and fell on his arse. Gwaine leant against a tree to stop himself falling as his body shook with repressed laughter.

“Let me look at it, you prat,” Merlin snapped, bouncing back up to his feet and grabbing Arthur’s arm.

Arthur winced. His face had the put out pout of a prince not getting his own way. The expression he got pretty much whenever Merlin was around. Gwaine caught Lancelot’s eye and they both tried not to laugh.

Merlin rolled Arthur’s chainmail up, removing his vambrace and pushing his gambeson sleeve up. There was an ugly gash across his upper arm, his bicep, elbow and forearm covered in blood.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Merlin yelled.

“Didn’t want to make a fuss, did you, Princess?” Gwaine said with a laugh and a slap to Arthur’s shoulder.

Arthur glared at him, but it was nothing compared to the glare Arthur was getting from Merlin. Lancelot sniggered.

“Well, I’m not using my bloody neckerchief again,” Merlin complained.

He reached for the front of Arthur’s chainmail, hiking it up and snatching at his shirt underneath. He ripped a strip from the hem.

“Hey!” Arthur shouted. “That was new.”

“Well, now it’s not. That’ll teach you for ignoring an injury like this.”

Merlin pulled some leaves from a little pouch in his pocket, grinding them between the ball of one palm and the heel of the other. Once they’d started releasing their oils – and funny smell – he placed them over the wound and tied the strip of shirt tightly around Arthur’s arm, tugging the knot to make Arthur flinch.

“Never get on the bad side of a physician,” Lancelot whispered exaggeratedly loud to Gwaine. “They know exactly how to hurt you.”

“And take great delight in it,” Merlin growled fiercely. Or as fiercely as Merlin could manage, which was about as scary as a bunny rabbit.

Arthur smacked Merlin around the back of the head. Merlin yelped.

“Come on, get moving!” Arthur ordered. His face was rather red.

Gwaine chuckled as he pushed off the tree he’d been leaning on. His leg gave another protest, shaking as he put weight on it. He gritted his teeth, focussing on the ache in his jaw and ignoring the pain in his leg. He could do it, they weren’t far from Camelot now.

Merlin and Lancelot kept shooting covert glances at Arthur as he marched ahead of them. At least that meant they weren’t looking at Gwaine. He let himself limp.

They got a fair way without any incident, all of the silent so as not to provoke Arthur’s annoyance. If Gwaine hadn’t been concentrating on not letting it look too obvious he was limping he would have poked the sleeping bear. Teasing Arthur was one of his favourite things to do after all. Instead he focussed on not hurting himself.

Another bloody tree root turned out to be his downfall. It caught his left foot, and as he staggered forward to stop himself falling flat on his face, all of his weight landed on his injured right leg. He crumpled with a shout.

Oh no. Merlin was onto him. Kneeling at his side he ran his hands up and down both of Gwaine’s legs until he found the rip in his breeches and the blood underneath. He yanked at the hole, tugging the fabric away to look at the wound.

“What is this?” he demanded.

“That’s a cut, Merlin. You’d think a physician would recognise one of those,” he said conspiratorially to Lancelot. Lancelot raised his hands and shook his head, not letting himself be pulled into Gwaine’s joke.

“And you didn’t tell me because?”

“I… didn’t think you needed to look at it,” Gwaine tried, shrugging and pulling a face.

“You’re joking?” Merlin spluttered, incredulously. “I’m travelling with _idiots_!”

He pulled more leaves from his pouch.

“Oh, do you have to?” Gwaine whined, wrinkling his nose at the horrid herby smell.

“Yes!” Merlin shouted at him. Physician Merlin wasn’t as fun as plain old servant Merlin.

Gwaine received the same angry treatment as Arthur had, complete with a strip torn from his shirt. He sighed. He’d liked that shirt. Arthur looked slightly sympathetically down at him, giving him his uninjured arm to pull him up. He wobbled slightly but had to admit his leg did feel a bit better with the pressure of the bandage around it.

Merlin got to his feet, brushed his hands on his breeches and frowned at the other three. He turned on Lancelot, poking a finger accusingly into his chest.

“What about you? Are you hurt too?”

“Fit as a fiddle, Merlin, I promise,” Lancelot said with his striking smile. Merlin’s frown melted. Gwaine scowled at Lancelot. Charming smug git.

And being the charming git that he was he came over and pulled Gwaine’s arm over his shoulders so he could support him as he limped.

Gwaine grunted and Lancelot smiled at him.

“You’re welcome,” he said pleasantly.

Gwaine squeezed his shoulder. He could always count on Lancelot.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! I love any and all comments!


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